Ok guys. Next chapter is up. I just wanted to mention that Riley and Shanna won't commit to anything just yet. I must admit that I tried to get them to kiss during the last chapter, but Shanna was adament; she wasn't ready. So, I'll wait until she is. In the meantime, please enjoy this one :d
Chapter 9
I woke to a loud knock on the door and a cheery voice calling out, “Shanna, I have clothes for you!”
I gasped and turned to the warm body beside mine. “Riley, get up, get up!”
He immediately jerked awake, looking left and right. Guard dog to the rescue.
“What is it?”
Although his stance was alert, his mouth was still thick with morning pastiness.
I shoved at him, harder than I should have, but I was panicking. “Move, move, hide!”
“Shanna?”
His legs were entangled in the sheets and I was still pushing him. He finally just fell to the floor on the other side of the bed. I rose abruptly and made a beeline for the door, opening just wide enough for my body to fill the gap.
Lydia was standing there, her fist raised, poised to knock again. “Oh, hi!” she said brightly, her long blonde ponytail swishing as she spoke. “I brought you some clothes!”
She gestured to the red suitcase beside her. “I have mostly completed a new wardrobe for you, I hope you’ll like it.”
“Thank you, Lydia. I was wondering if I’d have to wear yesterday’s clothes.”
“Not necessary. Let me know if you need any adjustments.”
She turned swiftly and her ponytail came inches from my face then she paused, looked back. “Oh yes, I almost forgot. Your parents are gone for the day. Your mother wanted me to give you this.”
She handed me my book bag she had hanging on her shoulder and a white piece of folded paper. Then she smiled and went down the hallway to the stairs. I pulled the suitcase in, relieved it was one with wheels and I closed the door, leaned down, opened my bag and verified my laptop was in good shape. The note from my mother said pretty much the same thing Lydia had said; my parents were gone for the day and they didn’t know when they’d be back.I sighed. What was I supposed to do with my day?
Riley’s dark tousled head appeared from the other side of the bed. “You want to tell me what that was all about?” He climbed back into bed and pulled the covers up to his shoulders. He looked ready to fall back to sleep.
I walked slowly back to the bed, disinterested in the clothes waiting for me to inspect in the suitcase. I sat, pulled the blankets to cover my legs. “I- I thought it was my mother and I, well, I didn’t want her to know . . .” my voice trailed off.
“To know what? That we slept together?”
I glanced at him. He looked mildly curious but there was a certain edge in his voice. “Well, yes.”
He studied me quietly for a moment. Then, “You do realise that you’re twenty-five years old, right? And you can do what the bloody hell you want to do?”
My eyes widened at his tone of voice. Where had that venom come from? “But you don’t understand, I- ”
Riley propped himself up on his arm and his eyes were warm but intent as he said, “I do understand, Shanna. To protect you, your parents took you to Terra. By doing so, they cheated you of the opportunity of being raised as a normal, carefree magical child. They had their reasons and I wouldn’t have done it differently. You weren’t permitted to be creative or imaginative, the very things that define us as Rydonians and it went against your nature. Your upbringing –not to mention the shift you worked- made you paranoid, defensive and rather suspicious. Above all else, though, you felt guilty for hiding yourself from your parents. You must have sensed that their reasons weren’t selfish but you never understood why they acted as they did.”
Riley took a deep breath and stared at me, probably awaiting my reaction. It was slow in coming but my brain was working furiously. Was I paranoid and suspicious? I quickly thought of the last couple of years and discovered that yes, I was. I no longer gave the customers the benefit of the doubt. I no longer saw they as friendly, smiling faces. Instead, I imagined that all their smiles just hid their evil intents, that they were trying to pull the wool over my eyes. I was afraid, also, that one night my parents would stop by and say hello, catching me writing at the laptop they didn’t know I had. I swallowed hard. Oh yeah, I felt guilt all right.
“What’s your point, Riley?”
“My point is, Shanna, that you no longer have to hide who you are. If who you are wants to sleep,” just like she did the night before, he put emphasises on the word ‘sleep’, “with a man, then do it! Stop feeling guilty for being who you are, who you are learning to be.”
“I know- It’s just- I-.” I stopped, breathed in. “It was a knee-jerk reaction; I’m sorry.”
His hand cupped my cheek and the tenderness I found in his eyes brought water to mine. “There’s no need to apologise. Just get to know yourself, okay?” He pulled back the blanket and smiled invitingly. “It’s still early, you want to sleep some more?”
No, I didn’t. I did however want to press my body against his and feel his warmth spread throughout me. I wanted to feel his hand cupping my cheek and his mouth on mine and-
I cleared my throat. “Um, no. I think you’re right. I think I need to spend time with myself. Besides, I don’t think I’ll be able to get back to sleep.” Not with your body hugging mine so tightly.
“Do you mind if I try to catch more sleep?”
“No, not at all.”
I rose and grabbed the handle to the suitcase, then walked to the bathroom.
“Shanna?” Riley’s voice was quiet. I turned to him. “I meant, do you mind if I stay here while you’re gone?”
I thought about what he’d said, about my not needing to fear my parents’ reaction or to feel guilty for what I wanted. Frankly, what I wanted was Riley in my bed. It felt right. I shook my head slowly. “No, I don’t mind. If someone walks in and finds you there, well, we’ll deal with it.”
He was beaming proudly and I felt warmth spreading through me. My gaze sharpened on the wall behind Riley’s head and I frowned. “Um Riley? What is it with this place?”
“What do you mean?”
“When we arrived, the exterior of the castle was pink and the interior was blue-green yesterday morning. This morning it’s mustard-yellow with orange polka-dots? Is there something I’m missing?”
Riley laughed, his white teeth flashing against his tan skin. “You noticed that, didn’t you?”
“I’d have to be dead not to.”
“You met with the council members yesterday, they must have told you that we need creativity and imagination to perform our magic. Well, the kids have classes for the development of said creativity and one of the activities was to transform the castle the families were living in.” He sobered slightly. “Because this is the only lived-in castle now, two kids a day can participate in transforming the fortress.”
“How exactly is it altered?”
“Well, the inside of it basically remains the same but the outside is changed drastically. Sometimes, it can look like an old boot, a box, a rectangle, triangle. It may look like a barn or a small house or even a boat. The windows can change shape or size but the rooms remain the same. The colours though . . . Well, you’ve seen what they can do.” He grinned.
“Well, that explains why the windows in the council room looked different than what I remembered,” I muttered as I headed for the shower.
* * *
When I came out of the bathroom, Riley was sleeping on his side with his hand resting on my pillow. Even in his sleep he was reaching for me. I felt my heart do a wild happy dance and knew my smile was at least a mile wide. I took my water bottle from my book bag, emptied its contents in the sink and filled it back up. I didn’t know if the tap water here in Rydon was drinkable but I was about to find out. I brushed my teeth, then headed out with my book bag hanging on my right shoulder and the paper and pens Riley had brought me clutched in my hands.
No one paid attention to me as I made my way through the main hall and out the –orange polka-dot- doors. I walked down the stone steps and looked around. Unlike the barren landscape outside the courtyard, the inside was beautiful and prosperous. The grass grew everywhere and was of the purest green I had ever seen. A soft breeze blew the branches of the huge trees, which had colourful leaves and flowers and fruit growing in them. Around me, everyone was busy, running around, caring for small children. Cats and dogs could be seen chasing each other and I wondered if they were actual animals or shifters like Riley.
I felt a familiar tingle in my right hand and knew what it meant; I needed to write. I looked around, searching for a quiet place to sit and write. Nothing. Following some instinct, or perhaps it was a long-forgotten memory of the layout of the castle, I followed the left side of the fortress and found, further to the back, a small oasis of trees, sand, flowers and picnic tables. Strangely enough, there was no one there. I shrugged and surged forward, the tingle in my hand becoming more pronounced by the second.
I noticed the picnic table was in the shape of a horse-shoe and I began to laugh until I turned and discovered the castle was also in that shape. I shook my head. I wonder what I would have chosen as I shape, had I been raised here.
I sat on the inside of the horse-shoe, dropped my bag beside me and hurriedly opened my pad of papers. I snatched a pen, pulled off the cap and my pen attacked my paper. I was startled by this furious need to write but I gave into it. It would be impossible to do otherwise.
The man staggered forward in the blistering sun. His lips were cracked and bleeding and he could literally kill for a sip of water. He tripped on the sand and swore as he once again fell to his knees. This time, he didn’t want to get up. What was the point? He didn’t know where he was going, didn’t know what he was doing. Hell, he didn’t even know who he was! He only vaguely remembered a name –Scott- but wasn’t sure it was his own.
He raised a shaking sun-burnt hand to his head and winced when it came back still humid with blood. He thought he might have gotten temporary amnesia from the bump there but had no idea how it had come to be. He fought back the panic his thoughts were bringing forward. He didn’t have time for the paralysing fear that came with thoughts of his lack of identity. He needed to move forward. He had a feeling that something, someone, had hurt him purposefully and that person was following him to finish the job.
His heart thundering, he looked up and squinted his bleary eyes. He could barely make out a dried up clump of dead trees and decided to make his way there. If there was to be any shelter from the sun, it would be there. Perhaps in the hollow of one of those trees.
He got to his hands and knees and crawled forward, blinking back tears of frustration. He wasn’t going fast but he was going. He thought he heard a noise and he stilled, glanced over his shoulder. Nothing. His heart beat accelerated. If someone was really after him, he didn’t want to be killed on his hands and knees. He wanted a chance to fight. He painstakingly rose, clenching his teeth, striving to keep the pain in his head at bay. He staggered forward, then stopped.
Before him, several miles ahead, stood a castle. It was surrounded by the strangest-coloured wall; yellow with orange polka-dots. Was that common for castles, to have their own distinguishing colours? He racked his brain, trying to find an answer while fighting to stay upright. He turned his head to the right, the clump of trees was closer than expected and he could make out a hollow in the base of one of them. He glanced back to the castle and nodded decisively. First, he would go rest in the shade of the dead trees. Then, come night, he would head for the castle and ask for some assistance. Surely they wouldn’t refuse someone who was alone and hurt? He managed to stay erect until about two feet from the hole in the tree. Then, throwing his dignity to the wind, he dropped to his hands and knees and edged closer. He rapped his knuckles on the dead bark and when no critter lunged at him, he decided it was safe.
He was barely able to curl up completely inside and he thanked his lucky stars that the huge tree was able to accommodate his tall, lean frame.
He was asleep within seconds.
He had no idea that only a couple of miles away lurked four shadows creeping closer to his resting spot, intent on doing his unconscious form much harm.
I gasped and dropped the fountain pen as if it had burned me. I waved my hand to the gentle breeze, hoping to cool it as I reread the words I’d just written.
My heart was hammering as I scanned the page. The handwriting was undoubtedly mine and so was the style but I could not get over the fact that I’d felt well, possessed. I had never written anything so fast before, without making a mistake either.
When my eyes fell upon the words, yellow with orange polka-dots, I scrambled up from the bench, threw my bag over my shoulder, snatched my pen and paper from the table and I ran. I ran for all I was worth, ran for the door leading outside the courtyard.
For anyone else, I would have thought that it was a coincidence that the wall the man saw was the same colour as the one today. But I couldn’t believe in coincidence. Because if my subconscious had really wanted to shock the reader, it would have painted the wall the same colour as the first time I’d seen it; the vibrant shade of pink.
As I ran, my breathing coming in short gasps, I remembered everything I had been told about the land, how the people all served a purpose, how the RM’s were essentially magic. I remembered how impressed the council people had been with my writing and had vivid Aya and Tristan had appeared before me. What if I had just written something that was really happening or was about to happen? My heart thundered even louder as I prayed, please don’t let it be too late.
The uniformed guard took a step back as he turned his head and saw me charging toward him. Quickly getting over his surprise, he took two steps forward and brought up his hand. I skidded to a stop a foot from him, panting and gasping for breath. “I need . . . to . . get . . . out.”
My voice was raspy and I hoped he had understood me because I didn’t have the enough breath to repeat.
The guard was an older man with very little hair on his head and dark eyebrows. He looked apologetic as he said, “I’m sorry miss, but it’s dangerous to go out there alone.”
“Listen, I need to-”
“Is there a problem here?” a deep voice cut in.
I turned to Gaspar. “I need to go out there.”
“But sir,” the guard said immediately, “there’s a storm brewing.” He pointed to the sky and I followed the direction of his finger. It was dark and cloudy and I could suddenly smell the rain in the air. It didn’t change what I had to do. If anything, it only made me more determined to head out. If I didn’t, there was very little chance Scott would make it out alive.
The wind picked up as I grabbed one of Gaspar’s rough hands. “Please, it’ll only be for a few minutes, I won’t go far. It’s just . . .” I shrugged helplessly and showed him my notebook.
Gaspar’s face lit up. “Ah, for your writing? It takes you outside these walls?” He nodded sagely, as if my request was a regular occurrence for him. Hell, maybe it was in this land. “You won’t be long?”
I shook my head vehemently. I could feel the seconds to Scott’s life ticking away and I hoped I wasn’t hallucinating, doing this for nothing. What if he was only a figment of my imagination? No, no way.
Gaspar nodded to the guard. “Let her pass but keep an eye out of her. If she isn’t back in say,” he looked up to the sky, “twenty-minutes, send somebody for her.”
The guard nodded reluctantly, unlocked and pushed open the wooden door.
“Thank you Gaspar!” I called out as I ran like the wind.
Something or someone must have been looking out for me as I jogged, ran, sprinted and hurdled myself across the land. I didn’t mind the time frame Gaspar had given me; at least someone would be looking for me if I didn’t come back. I swallowed painfully. What the hell was I thinking running into danger? It was totally out of my comfort zone but doing nothing would go against everything single fibre of me. If I had resisted the impulse to run to Scott, I thought I might actually be physically ill. And so I ran.
I arrived at the clump of trees I had seen in my story and I braked to a complete stop. There, in the base of the biggest tree, was a dark hollow. In it, I could barely make out a curled shape. Slowly, tentatively, I pushed forward on shaky legs. When within speaking distance with the man if he woke up, I kneeled and dropped my things on the ground. I kept my eyes on the hole, but felt for my bag, unzipped the middle compartment and pulled out my untouched bottle of water.
“Sir?” I called out softly. I didn’t want to startle him but I could feel the seconds leaping forward. I cast a wary glance around but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
I inched forward on my knees, peered into the hole. “Scott?” No answer. I crept closer and this time, I reached in and laid my hand on burning-hot skin. “Scott?”
He jumped up, startled, rapped his head against the inside of the tree and yelped in pain. Feeling guilty for having scared him, I said quickly, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I tried calling out for you but you didn’t hear me.”
A hand pressed to his head, his face contorted in pain, Scott ducked out of the tree and into the light. My breath hitched. He might have been a handsome man but it was difficult to tell. His dark hair was dirty and matted with grime and blood. His face fared no better. His clothes were dark and dusty but otherwise nondescript. The only thing that stood out about him were his eyes. They were clear green and were probably beautiful on a good day but for the moment they were pain-filled and looked haunted.
“Who are you?” his voice was raspy, grainy.
“My name is Shanna. Or Shayna.”
“Which is it?” He frowned, puzzled.
“Well, Shayna is rather recent but you can call me what you’d like.”
We were both on our knees, having this ridiculous conversation. Why hadn’t I simply told him I was Shanna? Why complicate matters further. He swayed slightly and held out a hand to steady himself. Without thinking, my right hand shot out and grabbed his extended left one. He looked startled but he didn’t pull back.
The weight of my water bottle was heavy in my hand and I suddenly remembered why I had pulled it out. I thrust it forward. “Here, drink.”
Would it be very cliché to say that he quenched his thirst as if he’d taken a very long walk in the desert? “Easy,” I said, “or you’ll be sick.”
Water dribbled down his chin as he inhaled the water, then handed the bottle back to me. He had grabbed it with the hand that had been cradling his head and I could see my bottle was now covered with blood.
“Um, that’s okay, you can keep it.”
He nodded. “Thank you.” He cast a look around the trees and I suddenly remembered my reasons for being there.
“Scott, listen- ”
He turned his head sharply. “How do you know my name?”
I hesitated. I couldn’t alienate him right now or we were both toast. But I didn’t want to lie to him either. “Would you believe me if I said that I just wrote a whole page about you, trekking over here. I know you have no memory, only that you remember a name and you assume it’s yours.”
I waited for his reaction, my breath tight in my throat.
He eyed me intently for a moment, then said, “I guess I do believe you. If you had meant me any harm, you could have done it while I slept.”
I exhaled loudly. “Good. We have to go.”
“What’s the rush?”
“You know what I just said? About knowing your name? I also know there’s four. . . somethings coming this way, fast.”
He blanched and struggled to stand. I quickly dumped my writing material in my bag and shouldered it before reaching for Scott. He was trembling and sweating as I gently wrapped my arm around his waist and helped him to his feet.
He leaned heavily on me as we hobbled forward, the howling wind making our progress slow and arduous. “Thank you for coming for me.”
I glanced up. Scott’s jaw was clenched so tightly it was amazing he was able to speak at all. His grip on my waist was bordering painful but I didn’t think he realised it. His every step was as laboured as his breath and I quickly realised that he wouldn’t make it back to the castle, not in this shape.
We need help. Was the guard looking for me yet?
I pressed on, pulling Scott with me. At first, when I heard the shuffling noise to my left, I thought it was the guard and I sighed with relief. I turned, a grateful smile on my lips but it froze in place as I faced the hounds from hell.
